


Tiny Voices

by fakemagpies



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Community: tfa_kink, Force Soulmates, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6083085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakemagpies/pseuds/fakemagpies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started as an indistinguishable hum in the back of his mind and gradually became more and more clear. First just single words, then pairs and eventually the disjointed sentences FN has been hearing more and more frequently. He's heard of this phenomena before. There are whispers about it but no one dares say anything outright. </p><p> <i>The voice you're hearing is your soulmate's.</i></p><p>Prompt fill for the prompt: "Soulmate AU where the force kinda just chooses the person/people you're meant to be with."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ship that has taken over my life to the point where I cannot stop filling Any/Finn or Any/Hux or Any/Any prompts with Finn/Hux. \o/

_Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough, bad, make better._

FN-2187's eyes shut even tighter as he folds the pillow around his ears, trying to drown out the other voice in his head. When he finally decides to open them again, the wall clock mockingly ticks away to 0300 hours. 

He groans louder than he means to and soon enough, Slip's curious head appears from the bunk above. "Are you hearing it again?" He whispers, still in a sleepy daze. "What's it saying?"

FN releases the pillow and drops his arms to his side. "He's not good enough or summthin'..." FN yawns. He doesn't think he'll be getting any rest at this rate. "I think he's working on something and it's not really working out for him."

Slip, in a swift, acrobatic motion that would have made even Phasma proud, slings himself from his bunk onto FN's. "Any idea who he is?"

FN didn't bother to move for Slip, who had settled, legs crossed, at the foot of the lower bunk. A sigh escaped his lips, "No, but I wish I did so I could tell him to shut up." FN sits up with new found energy, "Do you know this is the third night in a row this guys has been pacing around in my mind at 3 in the morning? Does he ever sleep?"

"Maybe he's one of the 'troopers on the second shift?" Slip whispers excitedly, "Or maybe one of the systems engineers?" FN lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a grunt as Slip goes on about who his voice may be. 

It started as an indistinguishable hum in the back of his mind and gradually became more and more clear. First just single words, then pairs and eventually the disjointed sentences FN has been hearing more and more frequently. He's heard of this phenomena before. There are whispers about it but no one dares say anything outright. _The voice you're hearing is your soulmate's._ That's what Slip had excitedly exclaimed when FN had told him about his predicament. FN never would have believed the stories--which always sounded like fairy tales gone too far--if it hadn't happened to him. Day and night, that person is in your mind, their thoughts flowing through your conscious and unconscious mind at all hours, even from galaxies apart. _If you're lucky enough to meet your soulmate, they say you become truly empathic._ FN retrains a groan at that fact: there was no way he wants his guy's feelings to bother him at all times of day, too. 

FN notices that in the meantime, Slip had made himself comfortable lying next to FN, "I wish I could meet my soulmate, y'know?" He's looking at straight above him at the top mattress. The thousands of little beeping lights on the walls of FN Squadron's room illuminate the childish grin playing on Slip's face as a rainbow of colors dance along his pale skin and make his hazel eyes sparkle. "You're really lucky, FN. Only a select few people get their soulmate's revealed to them so early and even fewer get to connect with them telepathically."

_No good, bad, bad, can do better, will do better._

"I wouldn't call myself lucky." FN digs the back of his head further into his pillow, "Why did it have to be me? I thought hearing voices was just a myth."

Slips shifts onto his side to face FN. "I thought so, too, until you said something. It's pretty exciting."

"I'm glad I could help entertain you," the corner of FN's mouth twitches upward despite the 'troopers attempt to keep his frown. 

"It'll be easier for you to find him this way anyways. The rest of us have to just wait till we bump into ours. It could happen tomorrow or in 20 years." Slip freezes, "Or, hopefully, never."

FN hears the sadness in Slip's voice and felt his heart sink. If your lucky enough, your soulmate might be another Stormtrooper or a crew member on the same ship. Even luckier, an officer. These things had a funny way of working out, as if orchestrated by some larger, omnipotent entity, and FN notes that most people are pretty lucky when it comes to their mates even if it is the Order's policy to separate any connected mates.

_Sleep, tired...sadness, sad, heartbreak, why?, why?_

But FN thinks that's for the best and he knows that Slip could live with that, too. The Order allows mates one day a year to be together, knowing the ramifications of keeping connected mates apart too long. No, FN knows the meaning of Slip's statement the instant he says it. He's heard the horror stories, too: the stories of 'troopers connecting with their mates just as they've been ordered to execute them. 'Troopers that find that their mate is in the Resistance or a New Republic loyalist. The Order takes a special delight in making 'troopers kill their own mates in these cases and the 'troopers are never the same afterward.

"It'll happen, Slip." FN reassures the other man in an even quieter whisper, "And when it does, you'll be an officer so you don't have to worry about being 'just a 'trooper'. You'll have more of a say."

"Me? An officer?" Slip genuinely laughs, "Might as well have said 'yup, never going to happen for you, kiddo'!"

FN calms down, hearing the worry escape Slip as he slowly stops laughing. "Not with that attitude, you won't." He pauses and, to his surprise, heard silence, "He stopped. I think he finally went to sleep."

Slip's eyes were shut and he lets out a little 'hmm' and sounds as if he's dozing off a bit. "I wonder if he can hear what you think...then you can keep him up all night..."

FN lets out a soft laugh and they lay in silence until FN is sure he hears the rhythmic breathing of sleep from Slip. He climbs up to Slip's bunk and drifts off to sleep himself.

\--

The next morning, the voice got a lot clearer and a lot worse.

_Incompetent man-child, wild, no control, insolent!_

The words rang out in FN's head as if they were being shouted directly into his ear. Distracted, Nines manages to pin FN-2187 to the floor. The red-head smirks as Phasma whistles. Unlike the sparring 'troopers, her mask is still on but he can feel the deep frown on her face and the disappointment in her eyes. "Stand down, FN-2199." She states approaching FN on the floor, "FN-2187, had that been a true enemy, you would be dead. There is no time for distractions on the field. You are all dismissed for mess. Report back here at 01200 hours." 

**Shut up, shut up, shut up!**

Anger and shame stir inside FN's mind. Slip shoots a knowing, sympathetic glance at FN-2187 as he helps him to his feet. The voice had never interrupted his performance until now and FN feels helpless as to where to direct his pent up aggression. To make matters worse, of all the people who he could have been bested by, it had to be Nines. Nines, who had two left feet and couldn't hold a blaster properly to save his life but acted like he could take on the Resistance all on his own. 

"C'mon, FN-2187, let's go eat." Slip encourages as FN stand in the middle of the now-empty gymnasium, looking blankly at the wall, fists clenched tightly at his sides. Slips nudges him gently towards the showers and whispers, "We may not get rations if we wait too long. You being hungry isn't going to do anything to your mystery voice."

They shower quickly and head to the refectory, sitting in an isolated corner together as they usually do. FN, as leader of the FN Squadron, was deeply disliked by his men due to the praise--or what Phasma gives out that can be considered so--heaped upon him. FN-2187 doesn't mind being the factor that unifies his squad somehow, even of it's against him. Slip, who was delicate, fair-haired and sickly pale, was the weakest link in the squadron and, by that virtue, was shunned as a liability to the Order that should be excised.

"Why don't you try reaching out to him?" Slip plays with the green foodstuff on his tray, "Maybe you can find a ways to meet with him?"

"I don't want to meet with him! I don't want anything to do with him except to get him out of my head." FN was more curt than he wanted to be and regretted it immediately when he saw how Slip flinched slightly when he spoke. "I'm not eager for a soulmate, okay? People say it's the best feeling in the universe to meet the person you're destined to be with but I can't believe I will fall for this person the moment I see them. I have him in my mind already and I hate him."

Slip is looking intently at his food, still poking and prodding. "You'll end up loving him. Not everyone confesses their undying love for each other right off the bat, but you can't deny the pull to that person. You two were chosen for each other. There is a force that binds you two, no matter how far you run or how much you deny it."

_Work, ignore, can't reveal, no emotions, cannot have soulmate..I must fulfill my mission with no distractions. Distractions need to be neutralized."_

The frown is erased from FN face at that last thought. "That was a whole sentence!" Slip looks at FN and cocks his head to the side in question. FN clarifies, "I heard a whole sentence from him. Usually it's a jumble of words but this was a real sentence!" 

Slip's face brightens up. "What did he say? Did you learn anything about him?"

"'I must fufill my mission with no distractions'," FN repeats, "'Distractions need to be...neutralized.'"

It shocked FN that Slip could get any paler. "Neutralized? Does he mean _you're_ the distraction? Does this mean he can hear your thoughts too?" Slip's voice is frantic and getting louder by the question. Several 'troopers sitting nearby look over at them. "Who is this guy if he can just think things like that?" 

"I think I may have sent him a nice little negative message right after Nines pinned me that perhaps alerted him to my presence." FN recalls the pleas for quiet he had projected to the other man. FN laughs but Slip notes how pitiful ad forced it sounds. The other member of FN squadron wonders for the first time how the voice sounds, all the things FN hears that he doesn't say and if it possibly scares his leader. Suddenly he's not so envious of FN's 'gift'."I guess he's no systems engineer."

The clock strikes 01150 and the warning bell rings. FN and Slip silently return their trays, food barely eaten, and remain in silence as they walk back to the gymnasium. 

\---

The next couple of days find Slip spending any free time he can find adding to the list of people who could have a 'trooper "neutralized". The list was pathetically long and even years of brain-washing propaganda couldn't stop Slip from questioning why he does what he does. FN wasn't interested in the list at all and only begun to think that this may be the first time someone has contemplated killing their soulmate when they didn't have to. 

Being honest, FN was upset. What right did this guy have to even threaten to hurt _him_? He was the one bothering FN for weeks. One tiny, reasonable, justified plea for silence amidst all the whining he has to hear from his "soulmate" and FN is the one that is going to die? "No." FN say aloud, "I am going to find him. I am going to find him and tell him what I think about his threats and about his paperwork and early morning pity parties! If I am going to die, then I am going out my way."

Slip drops his weights and hopes Phasma doesn't notice as he quickly lifts them up again. "Are you insane?" He hisses, startling FN because Slip never hissed. "You can just ignore him! Ignoring a good option." Slip adds the last part as if someone else is agreeing with his statement. 

"Until when? Until I am transferred or killed in action?" FN stops speaking as Phasma's sweep of the room reaches them. When the coast is clear, he continues. "You said we--me and him--have a bond? A force that connects us? Well, let's see how he feels when when that bond is severed. That'll be a real distraction, I'm sure!"

Slip's demeanor has changed completely, his face sharp and dark, and he leans into FN quickly before Phasma catches them. "I know people have died to prove stupider points but don't you think this is the sleep depravation talking?"

FN is defiant. "No. There is no point in avoiding the inevitable."

"FN-2187..." Slip is cut off my Phasma's intense gaze, watching 2187 and himself as if to tell them to stop chatting and get back to training. 

Phasma is deathly and acutely aware to the pair now and they don't discuss the matter further. FN has made up his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following the tried and true "bold/italics thoughts" procedure.
> 
> Also there are serious Slip/Finn undertones I will never apologize for. \o/

"FN-2187, are you awake?" Slip whispers from above him.

_Must not think, cannot think, who is it? Not him, not him, please, anyone but him._

"Yeah, I am." FN replies with shut eyes. Another sleepless night. "What's wrong, Slip?"

He hears the other 'trooper climb down the ladder from the top bunk then the sound of bare feet smacking against the floor. Slip crouched at the side of the bed, gently resting his head in his arms near FN. "Don't confront him, FN-2187, it's not worth it. Please." The tone is desperately pleading, "If not for yourself, do it for me. I don't want to be alone."

Slip's on the verge of tears as FN opened his eyes to look at him. "All right, Slip, all right. Don't cry." He sighed, moving over in his bed to make room for Slip to lie down. "I'll reason with him instead, okay? This stuff is set in stone, whether we want it or not; I get it, and if he's my mate then I hope he's smart enough to get it, too."

The growing dampness on FN's shoulder told him that the tears that had built up in Slip's eyes were falling rapidly. With a whimper, Slip reached an arm around FN's waist, slowly nodding chants of thanks. Despite himself, FN couldn't leave Slip alone; if Nines didn't pulverize him when FN was gone, then Phasma would. Slip regained his composure long enough to ask another question, "FN-2187, is it scary? Hearing his voice in your head?"

_Where on the ship is he?, cannot meet him, must avoid, feelings so haunting..._

He shrugged. "At first. But you get used to it quickly, sorta like it's your own thought."

"Good." Slip said, nuzzling into FN's shoulder. "FN-2187?"

FN sighed, too exhausted to deal with much more. "Yeah, Slip?"

"I'd be really excited if you were my soulmate..." Slip said, sleep creeping into his voice. 

FN smiled, "Thanks, bud. I wish it were you for me, too. That would be a dream come true." He let out a brief chuckle, "Then again, do I really want to know the things you think about?" He tried to ask seriously but the playfulness crept into his voice.

FN felt Slip simper against his neck and his grip on FN's waist loosened slightly as his body became progressively limp. FN used his free hand to throw the cover over as much of the younger man's body as possible. 

FN leaned his head against his pillow once more before adjusting to watch the colors dancing on the wall beyond Slip's head. **Don't worry, Slip. I have your back.**

FN is dozing off as the faint echo rings through his mind: _Slip...?_

\---

FN wakes up with a surreal, pulsing headache. He recognizes instantly that it's not his; it's his bond mates. The pounding doesn't stop in the medbay, where Phasma's imposing figure watches the medic and med droid with scrutinizing eyes. 

"Status, Doctor?" Phasma demanded.

"There is nothing physically wrong with him, Captain, but the pain is real." The doctor replied, seemingly stupefied by their own words. "It may be phantom pain but I cannot begin to identify the reasons. FN-2187 has been exceptional till this point, physically and mentally."

"How soon until he can resume his duties?"

"In his state, it would be unwise to put him into any vulnerable positions including training." The doctor winced towards the end, FN notices. He knows they're afraid Phasma wouldn't react well to that last tidbit. 

To FN-2187's surprise, Phasma gave a small nod then turned to speak to him: "FN-2187, you are officially and exclusively on sanitation duty until the next roster change. Permitting your condition is resolved, you will be reinstated back to combat forces. If not, it will be handled according to regulation." Phasma turned on her heel and exits the medbay as soon as she finishes. 

There is a feeling of dread setting into the pit of FN's stomach. FN knows how to sift through the bureaucratic lingo. He's being assigned to the worst duty possible and if he doesn't shape up, he'll be killed. All because of his mate.

His mate. His mate who is feeling this pain, too. A sudden emptiness washed through him and FN blinked a few times as he laid back in the bed. His heart is beating slightly faster, his breathing is getting rapid and he's _worried_. The feeling is overwhelming: he _needs_ to find his bond mate and know they are okay. What if they are sick? What if they hit their head and are bleeding out? FN is filled with the irrational need to reach out to the homicidal man at the other link of the bond. 

**Are you okay? You're in pain; I feel it, too.**

There is no response. FN thinks perhaps it didn't get through or was too disjointed on the other end until he hears a small answer, almost an un-willingly engagement in the conversation:

_Healthy. Concern...self with you...own affairs._

When the disjointed message reached FN, he could feel his rational mind take over and his blood boil. This man is the cause of all his problems and yet he still has that prickly, condescending tone in his voice.

**Let's meet...need to figure out plan...do not want soulmate either...**

_No, meeting unwise...become empathetic...bond too strong already..._

**Too late...Already feel your pain...must find...**

There is no response and FN's mind is uncomfortably empty. The world outside his mind takes over slowly. The med droid is beeping at him, probably telling him he is discharged and fit for duty.

FN walked into the hallway, dazed. A part of him felt like it was missing and it's as if his feet move on their own down a corridor of the ship he's never been on. He's following a trail, tangible and intangible, so clear and distinct that FN could spot it a hundred miles away yet it couldn't be visualized. A gentle ghost nudging him towards a lonely, dead-end hallway with two living quarters across from each other. 

One of the doors opened and battle instinct, instilled in him when he was a child, dictated FN strand alert and ready for the encounter. The presence that was with him a moment ago is gone now, the supportive air and joyfully anticipations were gone. In their place, accentuated by the darkness of the corridor, was a foreboding feeling. 

Cold hazel eyes rested on FN's mask. The emotions stirring in them was seeping into the atmosphere: a mix of unfamiliar joy, reassuring fear and contentment. Anger as fiery as the gaze-holder's hair.

A ragged, fearful breath escapes FN-2187's lips along with a name: "General Hux."

This can't be his soulmate. This is a mistake.

A small disbelieving sound almost escaped from the General's lips. It's can't be this Stormtrooper. 

Waves of disgust and disbelief so visceral and raw accompanied the sentiment, causing FN to feel even more physically sick. 

"You're my soulmate...?" FN managed after he was able quench the desire to vomit. A crippling nervousness settles in before his bitterness takes over: "You're the one whose been in my mind all these months? The reason why I barely get any sleep? You are the one up into the late hours: complaining, worrying, stressing. It's your fault I am so exhausted, so in pain right now...it's you..." 

Hux doesn't respond instead he pulls his datapad out and begins typing. "What is your designation, 'trooper?"

FN felt Hux's resolve as he typed: he was serious about his threat. "No..!" he sucked in sharply, knocking the datapad to the floor in a hasty attempt to grab it. It landed with a shattering noise on the metallic flooring. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry. I just..." FN sighed. He moved to take off his helmet, the air rapidly becoming stifling in his suit, "I hate this situation as much as you, sir."

The air is thick and oppressive in contrast to the frigid calm of Hux's demeanor. He feels his exposed face roughly scrutinized by the general. "Look, sir, I am pleading that we go on like we were. Slip--FN-2003--he's told me a lot about this. If I die, the situation doesn't look good for you, especially now that we've met." Hux's face doesn't show any sign of consideration. FN doesn't hear anything--presumably, the General is doing his best to keep his mind clear. "We can learn to control these broadcasts to each other. It'll be like nothing ever changed."

Hux's gaze cut through FN-2187 as he reached down to pick up the remains of the datapad from the spot where it had fallen. He doesn't bother to acknowledge the 'trooper as he walks away. "Clean the rest of that up, 'trooper, and don't you dare take of your helmet off in my presence again."

Still alive. That went as well as FN had hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a little off the grid now: it's officially indulgent. (as seen by the tag change. OTL)

"The General Hux?!" Slip whispered, almost too loudly. He stared with wide, frightened eyes at his friend. 

"Yeah," FN replied, taking another bite of his meal. Since his meeting with Hux, he has been paradoxically more jovial and more agitated than usual. The air of the ship was so crisp he could choke on it; the lights were turned up annoyingly too bright and every other bite of the bland refectory meal either tasted like manna from heaven or dirt. "It wasn't bad. He seemed into the idea of keeping it a secret." FN contemplated for a moment, "I think, at least. I haven't been killed yet."

The younger 'trooper twisted away from FN-2187 and eased back into a normal position. "Do you feel any different after meeting him?"

FN considered the question, savoring the relatively bland food in his mouth. Dirt. He lied to ease Slip's worry, "Not really, no. I don't think so."

"Do you still hear him?" Slip poked absent-mindedly at the food. "What if he changes his mind?"

"Slip, look, stop worrying about this, okay? It won't change the situation even if he does." There is an edge of agitation in his voice that clearly informed Slip that this line of conversation was concluded. 

"Yeah, I guess so..." 

"Great!" FN exclaimed with a start, standing abruptly. The sudden noise of FN's chair grating against the floor caused Slip to jump slightly in his own seat. Several 'troopers nearby started to whisper and hint in their direction. 

Slip stared intently at his leader. "Are you okay, FN-2187?"

FN, still standing, looked around to see the dozens of eyes staring at him for his next move. He eased himself back into his seat, lowering his head in embarrassment. "Just a very sudden chill up my back."

"Him?"

FN gave a miserable nod. "Or something connected to the bond, at least."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not something he's feeling," FN guessed, "But it's like some force is trying to tell me something. Maybe a warning?" FN quickly reevaluated his statement once he felt the gears turning in Slip's head, "Nothing lethal, Slip."

"Let's hope not." Slip smiled faintly. "How dangerous can sanitation work be?"

\---

Sanitation turns out to be very dangerous.

FN considered for a moment why the turnover rate for sanitation 'troopers was so high as he gazed down the charred hallway. Still flaming swipes, jabs, cuts, and strikes littered the empty corridor and, from a dark room just feet away, the jarring sound of metal being fiercely cut roared against FN's eardrum. 

Without thinking, FN knows the source of the destruction. Most 'troopers are lucky to never have to interact with him. Others only see him during missions, where they follow orders and stay clear of his path. The last group of 'troopers, to which FN now has the honor of being a part of, stand face-to-face with him when he's on the warpath. 

Few live to tell the tale of facing Kylo Ren.

The Knight of Ren seemed to tower over FN, red saber still engaged in his hand. His breath is heavy and FN felt another chill run up his spine as the modulated voice rung out. "What is your designation, 'trooper?"

"FN-2187, sir," The 'trooper managed to recite without stammer.

Suddenly, FN felt a tug at the edge if his mind. A slightly unnerving and invasive probe penetrating his outer consciousness. The headache he felt that morning seemed to return with seven times it's magnitude as FN dropped to the floor with a scream. His whole body shook with a whimper when the probe grated against every recess of his mind as it retreated. FN laid in a ball on the floor, choked sobs in his throat. Something shriveled inside of him as he felt Hux's agony and alarm at the other end of the bond. The tears unwilling pouring from Hux's eyes left phantom trails across FN's face. 

"FN-2187," Ren finally said, his breathing ragged as if the entire experience was just as bad for him. "Rise and follow me."

FN whimpered, each breath actually a staccato of smaller ones. FN's only desire was to crawl into his bunk, however he was afraid of the punishment of disobedience if this was the knight's definition of a greeting. "Yes, Lord Ren." 

As the words exited his mouth, FN's body was lifted to it's upright position by invisible hands. The hands seemed to support his body until FN's steps became steady and solid. The pair walked in silence until they arrived at an empty observatory deck in sector G. The far corner of the ship is known to be where Lord Ren meditated and thus 'troopers and officers alike never venture this deep.

FN felt trapped. The apparition that had gently tugged FN to Hux just a day ago seemed to envelope him, reassuring him. The 'trooper leaned into the comfort of the presence but he could never relax when danger stood just feet away. 

Ren turned from the transparisteel window that displayed millions of stars and moons in it's frame. He reached for the side of his own helmet as he spoke. "Take off your helmet." 

FN slowly complied, grateful deep inside to feel the cool air of the deck against his sweat laced face. Before his helmet was off, he heard the muffled thud of an object hitting the floor in front of him. FN's eyes were cast on the floor as he took off his helmet, the vision of the the knight's discarded helmet near the man's feet slowly coming into focus. 

His training dictated he never meet the eyes of a superior officer unless given permission. (The only time he had broken that rule was with General Hux under the extenuating circumstances of their bond). Even as Ren approached, FN focused on the tile just in front of him until a cool hand jerks his hand up.

Something stirred inside on FN as he gazed into Ren's eyes. His entire being felt light, a warmth growing deep from inside of him and spreading to every inch of his body. FN loses himself in the feeling until Ren breaks contact when he finally spoke. The knight's voice was a whisper, just faint enough for FN to hear: "Did you feel it?"

FN nodded, still in a trance. "Yeah."

The visual disengagement from Ren was swift as the door to opened. The knight looked beyond FN and the 'trooper felt the figure looming in front of the door as it closed. He didn't need to turn, he could feel the presence as if he was seeing it right in front of him. 

General Hux.

"General." Ren greeted apathetically, unperturbed by his helmet-less appearance. 

"What is going on here, Ren?" Hux's voice echoed through the empty room as he travelled beside the pair, his attentions fiercely directed at the knight.

Anger, sharp but subdued. FN felt it inside himself, as foreign as the thoughts racing through his head, and radiating from his stone-faced soulmate. 

_whatishedoingRentooclosedon'tlikethismysoulmate_ The jumbled mess ran though FN's mind, incomprehensible in the heavy atmosphere that clouded his mind. One phrase, however, emerged from the rush of thoughts: _He's mine._

"Nothing that concerns you, General," Ren replied, still stoic. He returned his attentions back to FN-2187. "How did it feel?"

"How did what feel?" Hux's eyes sharpen. FN felt the micro-trembles threatening to consume the general. Abruptly, he turned his head to address to FN-2187, "Your sector hasn't been attended to. Return to your duty immediately, FN-2187."

FN's entire being was thankful for the command as he exited the observatory, the threatening situation behind him slowly distancing itself from his mind. He didn't hear anything until a set of rapid footsteps filled the hall with angry, tapping echoes a minute later. FN-2187 wished he had brought his helmet to drown out the noise that was upsetting his already heightened senses. 

"FN-2187," General Hux. "Stop."

Obeying, he stopped. He stayed staring straight ahead, watching his mate take the place that empty hallway had occupied in front of him. "Yes, sir?" His voice came out hoarse and choked from the extreme dryness he felt in his mouth.

Hux was broadcasting so loudly, FN winced: suspension, anger, doubt, jealousy. "What were you doing in there with Ren?" FN tried to regain his composure but it was too slow for the other man. The question is repeated in a shaper tone, sounding as it had come through closed teeth: "What were you doing with _Ren_?"

"I was cleaning my sector, as per my duty," FN stammered, "Then I was face-to-face with Lord Ren...t-then he told me to follow. We were in the observatory for a little before you arrived."

_The pain, the pain, why were you in pain?...I don't care about that, I don't care, just a nuisance, just taking precautions..._

Hux contemplated the story. FN knew that the General could sense the restrained truth. As FN observed his mate's eyes, he saw that they were still red from the rush of tears earlier. FN could only think about the suffering he'd inflicted on Hux during his encounter with Ren. He absent-mindedly reaches a hand to touch the older man's cheek, his thumb brushing away imaginary tears.

The action awakens something in Hux as his noise bunches up and he knock the hand away violently, "Don't touch me." The older man's emotional presence vanished, leaving FN cold and lonely. "A request was put to your commanding officer this afternoon for your transfer to another ship. However actions today have made it obvious that until a suitable arrangement is found, you must accompany me while you are still stationed on this ship. Report to me at 0600 hours tomorrow outside of the bridge."

As the General walked away, FN stares at the hand that has caressed his mate's cheek. FN could have sworn he felt, even for a brief moment, Hux leaning into the touch. FN's mind clouded with fear as he remembered the flutter in his heart when he did. More. He wanted it to happen again; wanted Hux to lay a hand over his and press deeply into his touch. 

His stomach felt airy to the point of vomiting remembering Ren's eyes looking directly into his, the vague stirring of feelings that was equal parts joyous and dreadful.

The emotional overload left FN drained of every ounce of his energy, just enough to drag himself to the barracks and into his bed. He'll take his punishment for skipping duties. Continuing on with sanitation might turn out to be much more dangerous.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% satisfied with this chapter so I think I'll come back and polish it up a little soon.

FN dutifully reported to General Hux at 0600 sharp. The man was at the front door, immersed in a conversation with another officer giving stern nods in place of replies. The 'trooper stood at attention, feeling the eyes of the passing ranking officials on him. There are no 'troopers assigned to the bridge although the heaviest concentration of forces on the ship were in the areas just around it. FN realized how out of place his coruscating white armor looked amongst the sea of gray and black. 

The general doesn't acknowledge his presence until his conversational partner was already out of sight. Still not meeting his mate's eyes, the general issues an order to follow. The trip was uneventful until a prickling feeling in the back of FN's mind emerged. It was uncomfortable, filling the 'trooper with a incessant desire to scratch the mental itch. The feeling became more persistent, more prominent until a hazy image was forming in the front of his mind. 

A man and a woman. A small room that's only defining characteristic was an excessive amount of flowers. FN-2187's nose ached from the overwhelming and alien smell of nature.

The woman was a tragic and frail-looking blonde that reminded FN-2187 of Slip: defenseless and sensitive. The man towering over her was large, red hair graying at his temples as bright blue eyes focused angrily on the woman. FN-2187's view was obstructed by something--maybe a wall--and their voices were muffled. It was something about a child, FN-2187 understood that much. The woman's voice was easily overpowered by the man's baritone. After a few moments, woman retreated, her figure slumping in submissive defeat. Wide hazel eyes filled with regrets seemed to peer directly at FN-2187 in a desperate apology. 

The way she seemed to gaze intently and wholly on him with those guilty eyes startled the 'trooper into halting his pace behind the general. A small pang spread hopelessness throughout his body before his companion, several feet away, noticed he's fallen out of pace with him. 

"What is going on?" Hux questioned, a note of suspension in his voice. Something on his end of the bond has told him that is mate was in mild distress. However, as Hux examined FN-2187, he only saw the younger man absent-mindedly gazing into the distance. "FN-2187, report."

The command snapped the 'trooper out of his daze. "Nothing, sir."

Hux's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't appreciate being blatantly lied to. "I think we both understand that's not true."

"I don't really know what happened." FN-2187 sighed, "I just began to see some image and then a whole scene was unravelling. It was just for a minute or so."

"What scenes?"

"A woman and a man. Complete opposites, if I think about it." FN-2187 reflected on the memory, which was slowly becoming harder to grasp. "He was large, broad shoulders, really intimidating with these piercing and frighteningly clear blue eyes. The woman was a tiny thing, looked frail and really...sad. Like melancholy in humanoid form. They were arguing, I am not sure about what but it was clear he won."

The color seemed to drain from Hux's face as the younger man reported. FN-2187 wouldn't have noticed if it wan't for the strange feeling of panic he felt from Hux. 

"Sir?" FN-2187 finally said after a moment of silence. It seemed to hit him in the moment Hux turned away to continue walking. "Were those your parents?"

Hux hesitated, his footsteps faltering as if he hadn't expected FN-2187 to ask. He didn't turn around, lingering in position for a moment before proceeding forward, "Yes."

"Oh..." FN-2187 responded softly. His face burned as he considered the invasion of privacy. 

"They were _soulmates_ , too." Hux spat the word out like it was a curse, this time throwing a glance back at his own mate. "You must have seen how _happy_ they were."

FN-2187's heart beat painfully in his chest, unsure why. Maybe, he considered, he really believed somewhere in the back of his mind what Slip had said about eventually loving his soulmate; that the initial frostiness would warm gradually and they would reach a kind of mutual affection. It had to be true. Why would the universe destine two people to be bound to each other if they make each other miserable? There must have been some happiness. FN-2187 needed it to be true. 

They entered Hux's office, an ancillary room that connected to his quarters. It was modest in all respects. Clean and practically barren, a small bookshelf opposite the door, a black leather couch along the wall and a tall, green plant in the corner next to it. Hux pulled his datapad out again and silently pointed to the couch, where the 'trooper promptly sat.

"Sit there while I work and try not to _pry_." Hux's nose scrunched in distaste at the last word, as if FN-2187 had purposefully tried to before.

He wanted to open his mouth to explain that it just happened, unprompted, but FN-2187 was sure that Hux wouldn't care either way. FN-2187 sat in the silence of the office, counting light taps against the datapad. It's been happening more vividly, the 'trooper's mind wanders. Now even Hux's memories came to him in comprehensible bits. The 'trooper was curious about how much of him Hux could sense. He knew Hux could feel with him, could sense his moods and, like the day they met, could communicate with him if FN-2187 reached out to him. If Hux could pick up on memories, then FN-2187 didn't have many interesting ones that he'd unintentionally broadcast out. He's lived the standard Stormtrooper life, each day like the last until these past couple of months when the voices started. Even then, he had a semblance of normality. Now he's sitting quietly, like a misbehaved child being punished, in Hux's office rather than training with his team...

"Will you be quiet?" Hux snapped from his desk. "I can't work with your constant mumbling so close-by."

"Could you hear me, sir?" FN-2187 blurted. 

Hux considered the question with calculating eyes. "Faintly. Just a low hum I know is from you, occasionally I hear a word or two."

There was an anticipatory silence as FN-2187 waited for Hux to continue speaking. He could sense the other man's curiosity on the subject. After a pause and no evidence that Hux wanted to go on, FN-2187 replied. "It was like that for me at first but then I began to hear things more clearly." The pair of eyes on him stared so intensely that FN-2187 added a quick addendum to his statement. "It was always things about work. After a while, it's easy to ignore it."

"I see." Hux's perpetually waspish expression seemed to lighten as he let out a hum in consideration. "The word I hear you broadcast often is 'Slip'."

"Oh. FN-2003!" FN-2187 laughed at the thought. As the small laugh bubbles out of the younger man, the general's face reverted swiftly back to it's normal setting. "He was the one I mentioned before."

"I see." He replied cooly. The general shifted his attentions back to the datapad, lowering his head as he slowly began to resume his work. A few moments passed in such perfect silence that FN-2187 was startled when Hux's voice suddenly pieced through the room. "What is the exact nature of your relationship with FN-2003?"

FN-2187 cocked his head in mild confusion. "We're friends. Comrades."

The older man's eyes were still trained on the work in front of him as he spoke. "Is that the full extent of the relationship?" 

"Yes," FN-2187 replied, a note of confusion in his voice. The other man didn’t react but FN-2187 could sense Hux’s dissatisfaction in the answer. FN-2187 squirmed a bit in his seat, the feeling of discontentment making him uncomfortable. "I'm telling the truth, sir. We do talk a lot, but that’s only because the rest of the FN Corps don't like us much."

Hux finally looked up from his datapad. The hazel eyes scrutinized the exterior of FN-2187's helmet, willing they could look into the eyes underneath. "I gathered so much. I only ask because it seems I frequently hear these broadcasts at night."

FN-2187's eyes narrowed under his mask at the general. The next sentence came out more aggressively than FN-2187 had intended as he worked out the implication in Hux's statement. “I’m sorry they interrupt your nightly stress sessions, _sir_.”

The corner of Hux's mouth twitched in irritation at the insubordination. If only he wasn't sure that he would feel the reverberations of it, he would have ordered FN-2187 to be disciplined for mouthing off. "If your relationship with FN-2003 is beyond friendship, then perhaps it would also be best not to stalk off to isolated corners of the ship with other men."

A bubbling heat was building in the center of FN-2187’s chest as Hux's accusations continued. There was a tempered edge in his voice as the young man tried his best not to lash out completely. "I reported earlier that I was only following orders from a superior officer. Kylo Ren ordered me to follow him so I did, like any other 'trooper would have."

"How far do following orders go, FN-2187?" The general matched the edge in the 'trooper's voice, "The situation looked fairly compromising as far as I could see."

FN-2187 bit his lower lip as he stood up, trying to stop the slow grinding on his teeth that has started some time ago. "Permission to go to the refectory for mess, _sir_?"

The knit in the general's brow only deepened as he responded. "Granted."

FN-2187 felt seething hazel eyes follow him as he restrained himself from storming out of the confined reaches of the office.


End file.
